


Hero, Villain, and Everything In Between

by thellamaofthesouth



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Attacked on the Street, Homophobic Language, Hurt, One Shot, Pansexual Brendon Urie, Pansexual Character, This is really bad don't read this, concussion, possible triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 12:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thellamaofthesouth/pseuds/thellamaofthesouth
Summary: To some people he was a hero, and to others the villain. Honestly, he was just a guy who was willing to take a punch.OrBrendon thinks that a girl he just saw is going to be attacked. He decides to make sure she's okay, but winds up getting into trouble himself.





	Hero, Villain, and Everything In Between

**Author's Note:**

> Very loosely based on a prompt I found on Pinterest. The prompt was "Who are you?", "Demon to some. Angel to others."

He was on the _fucking_ bus. You think for being a fairly well-known celebrity he wouldn’t have to ride the bus, but here he was. He knew that he should have left the bar when Zack did, taken him up on the ride, but he didn’t. It was his day off and he wanted to enjoy the night. Sadly, that meant his only options were to walk thirty blocks back to hotel, suffering in the bitter cold the whole way, or try and catch bus because for some idiotic reason this place didn’t believe in Uber. Swallowing his pride slightly, he decided the bus was the better option which is why he, along with three other less than sober people, were silently staring out the greasy windows, breathing in air that faintly smelled of body odor.

  


After a couple of stops, one of the other passengers stumbled his way off, leaving only Brendon and two others on the bus. Glancing over, he noticed the girl sitting across from him. Her hair looked almost exactly like cotton candy having been dyed several shades of blue, pink, and purple. She was wearing ripped black jeans and a pride shirt under her coat. When she caught him staring, she smiled back at him faintly. 

  


Giving a quick smile and turning away, Brendon went back to his own thoughts. He remembered how he had come out as pan just a few months ago, and how his friends, family, and fans had accepted him with open arms. He thought about the fans who would create one huge pride flag across the arena with little papers hearts at every concert, never failing. It was amazing. Concert after concert he would talk to fans who said that he gave them the strength to come out, to keep going, to live. They called him an inspiration. 

  


He was brought back to reality when the bus stopped. It would only be a couple more stops until his. Then he could head up to his nice warm hotel room, take a shower, and get some well-needed sleep. He looked up and saw the girl quickly leave the bus, followed by the other passenger. From where he was seated, Brendon couldn’t really see the other man until now. He was tall, with a face that was almost gray and featured an angry looking snear. When he lumbered passed, the smell of cheap whiskey and cigarettes filled the air. Watching from the window, he saw that the man was walking in the same direction as the girl had just been. 

  


While Brendon wanted nothing more in the world than to just go back to the nice warm hotel, he couldn’t shake the weird feeling he had in his gut. Maybe it was nothing, but that man didn’t seem like the most hospitable of people. Sighing to himself, he quickly departed the bus and began walking in the direction he had seen the others go. It was in the same direction as his hotel anyways, and this way he wouldn’t have a guilty conscience later. 

  


Walking was more difficult than planned. The wind had begun to pick up, blowing the fluffy snow off of the ground, clouding the way. It seemed that much like Uber, road salt didn’t exist in this forsaken place, as the sidewalks were now covered in both snow and ice. After what felt like ages, very little progress had been made. He was just about to concede and try and catch the bus at the next stop when he heard a faint shout. Picking up the pace he could almost make out what was being said. 

  


_“you sinful….garbage….abomination….rot in hell…”_ Each word, faint as they were, cut like knives through the air and forced Brendon to move faster. Turning the corner, following the sound of the voices, he saw them. The girl was being forced against the wall by the man, his hand covering her mouth. She was crying and struggling to get away, but the man was far bigger than she was. Thankfully, it didn’t appear as if he’d tried to hurt her in any other way yet. 

  


“HEY, WHAT THE _FUCK _DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING,” Brendon howled, feeling his boiling blood melt the ice right off of him.__

“Ah, what do we got here, another fag I think,” the man slurred. Pushing the girl to the ground he turned all of his attention to Brendon. “You, you’re a sin. You’re a fucking monster and I can’t _wait_ until the day you burn in hell.” 

__“I’m the monster? Last I checked, I’m not attacking an innocent women on the street like aー,” he was cut off as the man lunged at him. Catching him off guard, he was able to land a couple solid punches. Falling backwards, the man practically landed on top of him, pushing him deeper into the slushy sidewalk. The slick ground made it difficult to regain traction, making Brendon’s attempts to escape his attacker obsolete._ _

__  
_ _

“You are the devil, you _fucking faggot_. You deserve what’s coming to you. You deserve to burn in the pit your soul crawled out of…” This tirade went on for what seemed like hours, or maybe it simply felt like that due to his probable concussion. This would probably be a good time to start writing his will. Man, he really should have a will, what kind of idiot doesn’t have a will at his age, especially when they make millions of dollars. God, what does one even put in a will. Wait, make this easy idiot, Sarah obviously gets everything. She’s smart, she’ll know what to do. Crap, include Zack too. And Spencer. I wonder if I should include Pー 

_“Come on, come ON. I know you’re not brain dead, so you better wake up.”_

__Wake up, he was already awake. God, how rude, he was right in the middle of making his willing and this stupid voice won’t leave him alone. He needed to make a will because… FUCK, he was suppose to be fighting. Shit.  
Opening his eyes (when did he close those?) was a regrettable decision.The sky was on fire. Everything was too bright and it made his head feel like it was simultaneously going to burst and collapse. _ _

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_ _

___“That’s it, slowly. Paramedics are on their way, everything is going to be okay soon,”_ murmured a sweet, maternal voice. Squinting as his eyes adjusted, Brendon could make out some of his surroundings. Contrary to previously believed, the sky was not on fire. Above his was a streetlight, illuminating the snow as it fell and buried him. Snow. Oh, that’s right, he was laying in a pile of snow. Crap, why did he think of that. Shit, shit, shit. Thinking about it made him realize how cold he really was. Ironically, it felt like his skin was burning. _ _

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_ _

__His thoughts were swimming in his head. He wanted to stop being cold, but he also wanted to know where that voice was coming from, and, shit, what happened to that bastard anyways, and he still really needed a will. Wait, focus, one thing at a time. Forcing himself to reopen his eyes (seriously, why weren’t they open), he looked above him again. This time, next to the streetlamp was a girl. A girl with floofy, cotton candy hair._ _

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_ _

__“Glad to see you aren’t dead yet,” she said softly, as if speaking loud might break him. Actually, with his head pounding like this, it might. Okay, great, cross that off the to-do list. What’s next? The will could probably wait until later, especially since he didn’t have a lawyer now. Next thing than, what happened to that guy._ _

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_ _

__Moving his head to look around proved to be a mistake. It was like someone set up a kick drum in his skull. Colors started to bleed together, blurring the world into one odd kaleidoscope._ _

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_ _

__“Hey, hey, don’t do that. The ambulance is almost here just stay still okay.” She was petting his head, try to calm him, but he needed to know._ _

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_ _

__“The, the man, what ha...appened?” Not the best, but he was seventy five percent sure that that made sense._ _

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_ _

__“He was choking you. I didn’t know what to do, you were just so still that I thought you were dead. I grabbed a beer bottle from off the street and smashed it on his head. He’s not dead, but he shouldn’t be doing anymore damage tonight.”_ _

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_ _

_“Ha,”_ Brendon thought, _“I’ve been bottled, that shit sucks. Take that._ ” 

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_ _

__Suddenly, other voices joined the party, and he was being lifted in the air. After several long moments, he tired brain managed to figure out that the ambulance must have arrived. Just before they shut the doors Brendon barely heard the girl yell out, _“Thank you, you are my hero.”_ _ _

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_ _

__Ha, sure. To her, he was a hero. To that guy, he was the villian. In all honesty, he was really just a guy who was willing to take a punch._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Besides the slightly abrupt ending, I think this story actually turned out pretty okay.


End file.
